Achilles Heel
by Mochi-girl
Summary: "The priority is finding the black box, and when he does, I'm quite sure he'll find Nikita. Once I know the box is back where it belongs, he will complete his mission, full containment, including canceling her."
1. Deja vu

This story is for entertainment purposes only, I do not claim the characters as my own. Parents, it is your responsibility to monitor your children's internet use, not mine.

* * *

1. Deja Vu

* * *

"It's not obvious but there is a change in his behavior."

"Really? Are you sure? This isn't a romanticized fantasy knocking around in your pretty head, is it?"

Amanda gave him a cold look. Dressed in his expensive three piece suit and silk tie, he looked more like a CEO or an investment banker than the leader of a highly secretive black ops organization. "Flattery, Percy? Fantasy? That seems a bit juvenile, even for you."

He didn't bother turning toward her, he knew the look on her face was condescending and from the way her arms were folded in front of her, she wasn't in the mood for any friendly banter.

"It's subtle, but you can see it in his posture, the way he holds his head." Amanda tapped the toe of her suede platform heels and her long manicured nails kept time. "There's something in his eyes… we shouldn't ignore it... this could be a problem."

Percy raised his eyebrows. "Are you questioning his ability or his loyalty?"

"I'm not questioning either, I'm just pointing out his Achilles heel." She gave him a smoldering look. "We all have one and his is Nikita."

Percy followed Amanda's gaze from their vantage point in Operations to the floor where two recruits were honing their hand-to-hand combat skills. They circled each other, deflecting blows with their fore arms and using their legs to throw kicks at each other. The guttural martial arts sounds they made echoed in the room while a group of young men and women sat on the floor against the wall, waiting for their turn.

Michael observed them with a critical eye but his concentration was interrupted for a split second, he turned his head ever so slightly toward the glass window that separated them from Operations. His eyes narrowed and the dark aura around him grew murkier before he turned back to the roomful of trainees.

This was Division, a clandestine government entity tasked with assignments that involved destruction, deception and death. The recruits were young, some still in their teens, they were chosen for their ghostly pasts, given new identities and offered a second chance to serve their country. What they didn't know was the truth that Nikita had learned and Michael had never questioned, that serving their country was secondary to serving Percy and his own private agenda. His autonomy and utter disregard for human life had driven Nikita to go rogue and she was determined to put an end to the organization.

"Are you still considering sending him out in the field to find your Achilles heel, you know, your missing black box?" This time a look of amused curiosity crossed Amanda face.

He chose to ignore the dig. Behind her sophisticated dress and coy feminine demeanor Amanda was an expert manipulator and he had learned not to go there. "I believe I will, I don't doubt his ability to find it and Nikita too."

"Then what? He's had contact with her recently, twice that we know about and she's still alive. I don't think he could bring himself to cancel her, do you? "

Percy shrugged. "I'm not giving him a choice. Either he completes the mission or he suffers the consequences. I can't have him questioning our work…"

"You mean your work." Amanda interrupted him with a smirk.

He glared at her. "As I was saying, anyone who questions our work is a liability. The priority is finding the black box, and when he does, I'm quite sure he'll find Nikita. Once I know the box is back where it belongs, he will complete his mission, full containment, including canceling her."

Percy rolled his shoulders, the conversation made him tense. "Roan will confirm the kill, he has strict orders. If Michael is successful, we're all happy and he gets a little R and R, however if he fails, he won't be returning. It would be a shame, but necessary."

"I see." Amanda turned and walked to the door, her high heels clicked as she crossed the floor. She looked over her shoulder. "Care to join me for lunch?"

Percy smiled. "I'd be delighted." He followed Amanda out of the command center and the door shut behind them.

Michael gestured to his assistant, the man blew his whistle and the two recruits stopped and bowed to each other before taking a seat on the sidelines.

"Jaden, Alex, you're up." Michael's voice was a well toned growl, deep and masculine. He stood in front of the recruits like a commanding officer reviewing his troops. His tall well built frame exuded confidence, his feet were planted slightly apart, anchored to the floor and his arms were crossed behind his back.

The young women assumed their stance. "Begin." he nodded and watched them as they began to spar. He discreetly touched the spot behind his earlobe where the tiny transmitter was affixed. Nothing he overheard between Percy and Amanda surprised him. He made a note to himself to thank Birkhoff for unintentionally providing him with the bugging device. It had proven to be most useful.

* * *

Nikita's night's were filled with strange dreams and when she awoke, she knew they had infiltrated her psyche. She thought they were a result of the anxiety she felt putting Alex in harm's way. The question lingered, did she have the right to ask her to put her life on the line? The thought all but vanished when she remembered Percy's arrogance and his orders to kill innocents like Alex and Daniel. The thought of Daniel made her ache. He had been there for her, cared for her, showed her what loving someone meant, and he died for it. Division had him killed, but she might as well have pulled the trigger. Percy was power hungry, greedy, and completely without a conscious, and she vowed to destroy him and Division.

She gathered her black hair up and pulled it into a ponytail. She wore no make up and was dressed in a tank top and leggings. On the surface she looked much younger than her 27 years, but in reality she felt much older. Her safe house, was a ballroom inside of an abandoned hotel. She had transformed an island of carpeting into a work and living space. Nikita needed very little, she had been on the run for over three years and with the exception of her laptop computer and glock, she was willing to leave it all behind in a moment's notice.

Her computer chimed and she sat down in front of her monitor watching the words appear on the screen. The computer's text to speech program read them back to her in Alex's voice.

_"Hello Sensei, something is up, but I'm not sure what. I heard Birkhoff say it was black box time. Does that mean anything to you?"_

Nikita felt a pang of discomfort. She had known Percy would never give up pursuing the missing black box or the flash drive that accompanied it. It was one of six, hidden around the world and if exposed, would create a ripple effect of destruction. She typed in her reply.

_"Black Box is what keeps Percy in power. We find it first and we can start bringing him down. Who are they sending?"_

_"Michael, he left with two other operatives. An hour later I saw Roan talking to Percy, he's really creepy."_

"_That's generous, what he is, is very dangerous, so steer clear. Let me know if you find anything else."_

_"Okay, got to go, class is in session."_

The monitor showed she had logged off and the cursor that denoted Alex's presence stopped blinking. Nikita leaned back in her chair to contemplate her next move.

Michael.

She could still feel his eyes boring into her and his low sensuous voice and brooding expression flashed through her head. She realized they would face each other again. She thought of the times he had protected her and wondered when they would stop owing each other? She knew he cared, because she cared too, but everything had changed when she met Daniel. She closed her eyes and shook her head because she knew that wasn't quite true. Everything had changed when he turned his back on her and pushed her into Daniel's arms.

Nikita picked up her gun and released the clip into her hand before shoving it back in with a quick motion. Now, they were after the same thing, Percy's black box of secrets.

* * *

Alex sat at her computer terminal and twisted a lock of hair around her finger pulling at it absentmindedly. She had been a training recruit for exactly seven weeks and four days and not a day had gone by where she hadn't learned something useful. She constantly looked for opportunities and morsels of information. Listening, reading over people's shoulders, watching and formulating clever questions that might lead to information that Nikita could use. For the first time in her young life, she felt she had a purpose. She felt empowered, leaving her heroin addiction behind was easy because taking Division down was her new drug of choice.

There were ten other recruits sitting in front of state of the art computers taking insults from Birkhoff, Division's Tech Wizard. He berated them while instructing them on how to get around a firewall. The exercise on hacking into a computer's server was actually enjoyable but Alex continued her charade of incompetence because it allowed her extra time in the lab. After an hour of recognizing standard coding, the class was over.

"Okay, kiddies, it's recess in the 'hood. Wash your hands before touching anything." Birkhoff's tone dripped with sarcasm. He picked up his computer panel and made a note on it. When he looked up Alex was standing in front of him.

"Birkhoff?" Alex tried her best to sound sincere. "I wondered if you could tell me something."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Not likely." He saw the fallen look on her face and it made him feel guilty. "Okay, what is it?"

Alex's face lit up. "The other day, I was working with Amanda and she said I reminded her of Nikita. Who is she?"

He looked amused. "Consider that a big compliment. She's what legends are made of."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The longer she had been at Division, the more she wanted to know about her mentor.

"Nikita was a recruit like you. She showed up here and started training with Michael. They had some sort of symbiotic relationship going, you know, a mutual connection. Anyway, she did the Rebel Yell three years ago and all but disappeared. Then about six weeks ago, she turned up on our radar."

"You mean she left? You can do that?" She feigned naivete.

Birkhoff laughed out loud. "Hell no!"

He sized the young woman up. Alex was pretty, strong and although weak on her computer skills, she had a spark. He knew Michael saw something in her, and so did Percy and Amanda. "Don't get any wise ideas, especially if you want to stay alive."

The warning was a threat she already understood.

"So this Nikita, she's run off? Why? What's her story?"

Birkhoff shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't pay to fall in love, especially in here." He looked at her sideways and snarled. "Now scram."

* * *

She pulled the fur collar on her parka close around her neck. The weather didn't phase her, in fact she welcomed the bite on her face and the frigid air in her lungs. She took the GPS device out of her pocket and tossed it into a trash can on the street as she walked by.

The last time Nikita had seen Owen Elliot, he was bruised and battered with two bullet wounds. She had told him the truth about removing the tracking device that all Division personnel had implanted in their hip, but what she didn't tell Owen was she had replaced it with a tracking device of her own.

She knew Owen had Percy's black box. It had been two weeks since he became a renegade and had taken off. She had held out hope, that with time, he would come around to her side. But time had run out. Division was actively pursuing the box and it was time for her to find it before they did. Her GPS sent her back to Montreal and the final stop was the Monte Royal Cemetery, where she found a fresh grave and new headstone. It belonged to Emily Robinson, Owen's love. The woman had given him back his humanity and had paid the price for that gift with her life. Nikita had found the tracking device, embedded in a small bible, left in an empty flower urn.

She flagged a cab and instructed the driver to take her to her hotel. It wasn't often she felt the need to drink, but tonight she felt melancholy and alone. Death was something she had become accustomed to, but it was usually in a context of kill or be killed. This was different. Emily had been an innocent, it felt tragic and senseless. She had been down this road far too many times, wondering what if, and trying to accept there are no do overs, only a hopeless sense of deja vu.

The hotel lobby was busy with guests checking in. Piles of luggage surrounded the bell hop's station and the Concierge desk was busy helping guests and making phone calls. Nikita sensed that something was off as she maneuvered her way through the crowded lobby. She entered the elevator alone and extracted her glock from the holster in the small of her back. When she arrived on her floor, she carefully and silently made her way down the hall to her room. The door was slightly ajar and she took a step back. With her weapon pointed straight ahead and her finger on the trigger, she kicked the door and it flew open.

A figure standing next to the window slowly turned around.

"Hello Nikita."

She pointed her weapon at him and smirked.

"Hello Michael."


	2. In the moment

This story is for entertainment purposes only, I do not claim the characters as my own. Parents, it is your responsibility to monitor your children's internet use, not mine.

* * *

2. In the Moment

* * *

"I'm on it." Roan snapped his phone shut with one hand and tapped the steering wheel of his vehicle with the other. _This should be good_ he told himself.

After being briefed on the mission, a sense of satisfaction had settled over him and he looked forward to the task at hand. It takes a unique individual to be a _Cleaner_ and Division had found one in Roan. Amanda had declared him a homicidal sociopath and Percy had declared him the perfect man for the job. He had spent more than half of his life at Division. His unmitigated skill at eliminating problems and canceling collateral was highly valued. From the very beginning, he had a knack for doing his job with no remorse. Like many of his long time colleagues, he was dedicated and proud of his accomplishments. He had, however, felt cheated when he failed to pass the evaluation to become Percy's Second in Operations. But Roan was patient and knew to bide his time. And now, he felt his patience paying off.

Whether Michael failed or succeeded, Roan was clear on the outcome. He would return the black box to Percy and cancel Michael and Nikita. He had smiled to himself, _this will be a career maker._

Parked in the shadows outside of the hotel, the _Cleaner_ and his Assistant waited inside a black panel van. Typically, it would be easy to follow a Division agent, but it took more effort to keep tabs on Michael. He had been spared the tracking device due to his elevated status, but his subordinates had not. Michael's preference was to travel alone. He sent one agent ahead of him for reconnaissance and the other followed behind him for back up.

Roan followed the first agent to the hotel, where he checked into a double room located across the hall from the suite reserved for Michael. The agent surveyed the hotel perimeter and checked in with their security, before making a call. Michael had arrived shortly thereafter. He entered the hotel through a service door, where their surveillance equipment captured him, well dressed in a dark suit and wearing sun glasses. He stopped at the front desk, accepted a key card and proceeded to his suite. The agent who had cleared the way for his arrival met him at the door and they exchanged a few words before he entered his room. Michael showered and ordered room service before opening his laptop and logging on. On schedule, the second agent arrived and reported in. Room service came, Michael ate alone and continued working on his computer. After a while, he set his computer aside and extracted a small bottle from his bag and reached up to spray the tiny camera that was affixed to the overhead light. Roan's video feed went dark and a moment later the crunch of their audio bug crackled in their ears. Birkhoff came on-line. "Dude, he wants his privacy."

"Sir, how much longer do you estimate we'll be here?" The operative in the van with him was whiny, fidgety and hungry.

Roan snapped back at him through gritted teeth. "We'll be here as long as it takes."

Michael suspected, the two men parked in the panel van might likely be resentful if they knew. The two agents they had followed to Chicago were currently enjoying a large platter of spaghetti and meatballs and a jug of Chianti. Adding to their resentment would be the knowledge that the double he chose to impersonate him was enjoying the mini bar and free cable in his hotel suite. He wondered how long it would take Roan, or anyone in Division to realize he was in Montreal, eight hundred miles away.

* * *

The last two weeks had found Owen hiding and nursing his wounds. He had bribed a doctor to give him the antibiotic drugs he needed to stay alive and the barbiturates he wanted to dull his pain. It wasn't physical pain he ran from. The wounds he suffered reminded him he was alive and gave him his identity. It was the emotional pain he couldn't deal with. Owen grieved for Emily. His heart had been destroyed and his guilt overwhelmed him. Her pretty face and her sweet voice haunted him and loosing her was a mainline to realty. Only the thought of revenge soothed him.

Like all Division agents, he knew how to survive using subterfuge. He had laid low, finding an abandoned building to camp in and gathering only what he needed. His cover as a landscaper was gone, his possessions confiscated and his identity pulled apart by local police. Owen needed food, water and shelter to survive. He had a few hundred Canadian dollars that Nikita had left it in his wallet and a sporting goods store had provided him new clothes, a warm sleeping bag, a camp stove, mess kit, candles, maps and a water purification system. He blended in at the homeless shelters and found a place to bathe. For a few dollars, no questions were asked.

He had hidden the black box. It was the only leverage he had against Percy and Division, and like Nikita, his hatred for them kept him going. What he needed was a plan and what he wanted was Nikita to help him carry it out.

He knew Nikita was back in Montreal and he wanted her to find him. He couldn't make it easy for either of them, it was too dangerous. What he didn't count on was Michael. He knew him by reputation only, their paths may have crossed at Division, but it was inconsequential. Not knowing his enemy made him edgy and jumpy.

Owen stood outside of her hotel and looked up at the windows, wondering which one she was behind. He paced the sidewalk and considered his options before making a decision

* * *

"Hello Nikita, I apologize for showing up unannounced." Michael stood in front of her, his hands in his trouser pockets. The darkness in his eyes was evident and he looked hesitant and almost apologetic.

"Why are you here Michael? You want to get your ass kicked again?" Nikita raised her weapon, she looked as bitter as she sounded. "Take your hands out of your pockets and keep them where I can see them."

Michael complied. "I'm not armed." He proved it by slowly opening his jacket and showing her. "We need to talk."

"I think it's all been said unless you're here to give me Percy's blessing."

Michael frowned and cocked his head slightly. "What I have to say is a bit more complicated than that. You should know I haven't been teacher's pet since you left."

Nikita lowered her gun, she narrowed her eyes at him, like she was trying to get him in focus. "I know why you're here, where are your little friends?" She knew Michael wasn't a threat to her life and she placed her gun on the bedside table. She peeled off her parka, her long sleeved cashmere sweater and black leather pants clung to her curves.

"I'm alone." His eyes soaked her in and he underestimated the affect she had over him. "My mission is to bring Percy his black box and your head on a platter. If I fail, I'll be canceled." Michael's eyes flashed with intensity and his voice was urgent. "Nikita, give me the box and leave. I'll take my chances with Percy and Roan. I'm asking you to do this and to go before it's too late."

Nikita swept her hair away from her face and glared at him. "What black box, Michael? You want me to leave? And go where? I've got no place to go, and no one to go to." He could see her distress, her eyes sparked with anger, she wore it plainly.

Michael took a step toward her and closed the gap between them. The look of concern on his face infuriated her and she slapped him hard across his cheek.

There were very few people in this world who could make him feel this reckless. He grabbed her wrists and twisted them behind her back, slamming her up against the wall. He felt her shift her weight to fight back and he used his body to pin her in place. She seemed smaller than he had remembered, but he knew her stature had nothing to do with her strength.

"Stop it!" His voice was harsh and his words strangled. "You shouldn't have come back. You should have staid away. Percy is determined to find and kill you."

"I'm not afraid of him, if anyone should be afraid, it's him."

Nikita felt Michael's strong frame enveloping her. She willed herself to breathe, it was one of the gifts Amanda had given to her and she did her best to keep her intake of air steady and in control. Then she did something she hadn't done in almost four years. She allowed herself feel his body against hers and the sound of his voice seep into her. It was like a narcotic entering her bloodstream and she couldn't fight the emotion that consumed her.

"I can't protect you if you won't trust me." There was a wistful almost hurtful tone in his voice. He murmured the words and they brushed against her face gently.

He relaxed his grip on her and she slowly turned around to face him. He hovered over her, his hands planted on the wall on either side of her. "I want to help you."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. "You can't protect me or help me, it's too late. You once told me there are no happy endings in Division. I didn't want to believe that, but I do now. I will never forgive myself. Daniel didn't deserve to die, he was a good man. I wanted to love someone and be loved back, so I didn't listen to you out of spite. I let him fall in love with a lie."

Michael pulled her against him and felt the anger and bitterness flow out of her. Nikita held this burden of guilt on her shoulders since Daniel had been murdered. She had been warned and chose not to listen and the consequences would forever haunt her.

"You should blame me, for God's sake, blame Percy and Division, but don't blame yourself. Our lives don't belong to us." He whispered.

He was prepared for her to reject his show of compassion and to lash out and fight him. Instead she embraced him and rested her head on his shoulder and wept. He closed his eyes in surrender. Nikita had gotten to him. She had imprinted herself in his subconscious and he couldn't escape his feelings for her. He had tried to make her his past but realized, she would always be with him in the present.

"Michael, I'm so tired right now." Her words faded into her heart. "Please, don't hurt me."

He was stunned by the emotion in her voice. They were both vulnerable and exposed and like her, he allowed it. Michael took his hand and cupped her cheek. He gently tilted her face towards his and when he kissed her for the first time, it was gentle, caring and loving. "I couldn't give myself to you then, they would have canceled us both." He whispered.

Nikita let this web of yearning spin around them. She was not the rogue agent being hunted down or a white knight trying to protect an innocent. There was no grief and no objective. Just Nikita and Michael.

He kissed her again, than again and again. Each kiss made them ravenous for more and for once, their timing was right. He felt her hands slip inside his jacket and she slid it off of his shoulders. The palms of her hands ran down his arms and she traced every curve and muscle with her fingertips. His large warm hands crept under the edge of her sweater, her skin felt smooth and velvety and he pulled her closer.

"I want you Michael." She murmured the words, they were barely audible but he let her know he had heard them. He turned her away from the wall, and like a dance she followed his lead. He laid her down on the bed, his body covering hers, and she whimpered with contentment.

His breathing was labored as he felt the passion between them grow. "Nikita... tell me again." His voice was low, sensual and aroused.

"I want you!" Her words were like a wisp of air lingering over them. She breathed deeply, his scent was masculine, powerful and erotic. When she reached up to unbutton his shirt, he knew they felt the same wave of passion pass through them and their next kiss left them breathless.

Piece by piece, they decorated the floor with articles of their clothing and all the while the heat between them burned intensely. They loved each other instinctively. The sounds of approval guiding them, their longing to be together urging them forward. Division had taught them both to be efficient, detached and unemotional, but now, they taught one another to be connected, to savor this encounter, and to live in the moment.

"Nikita..." Michael murmured under his breath. "Nikita..."


	3. It Never Is

This story is for entertainment purposes only, I do not claim the characters as my own. Parents, it is your responsibility to monitor your children's internet use, not mine.

* * *

3. It Never Is

* * *

Alex huffed with frustration and let the cell phone pieces fall onto the table. "I'm never going to figure this out." She mumbled the words under her breath and looked angrily at the make shift detonator.

"Cool it. Do it ten times and it'll feel simple." Thom leaned over and bumped her shoulder as a show of support. "You'll get it."

She sighed. "Thanks."

He gave her a little smile of encouragement and got back to his own work. He felt good, he'd never really helped anyone until he landed at Division.

Thom had spent his young life in Detroit, father unknown, mother dead from an overdose of bad heroin when he was two. From then on he was shuffled between an aunt who was addicted to pills, and a grandmother who was embittered by her mistakes and addicted to husbands.

At age fourteen, a CPS caseworker came into his life and gave him his first dose of approval. He trusted the social worker until the sexual abuse escalated and one day he defended himself with a baseball bat, fracturing the man's scull. The day he entered the juvenile facility, he gave up believing he would ever become a famous rap star.

When he was released, he was eighteen with no family, no job prospects and no future. It took less then six months before he committed cold blooded murder for exactly twenty six dollars.

After a year on death row, Michael showed up at his prison cell, he looked him over and asked him if he would like to serve his country. Thom spat at him through the cage he was incarcerated in, and two hours later, he was forcibly taken away. Michael had laid it on the line for him, he could go back to prison and eventually be executed or he could work hard and train, and maybe he would get a second chance to become someone.

"Thom?" She said quietly "When are you being sent out again?"

He shook his head, "Soon, anytime I guess. I got called into Amanda's office and got fitted for a suit. Nice threads, it does make a difference in how you feel about yourself, although she had to teach me how to tie a Windsor knot."

Alex smirked. "Maybe you'll get to go someplace really awesome and meet some rich bitch and have some fun." She immediately regretted the words, she knew they were trite and she didn't want to ridicule him.

Thom shrugged. "I think it's going to be a lot more boring than that." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Promise not to tell?"

Alex smiled. "Promise!"

"I'm going to Montreal, I'm supposed to pick up a package, like a courier and bring it someplace."

Alex felt her heart hammer in her chest. She willed herself to calm down. "I wonder what's in Montreal?" Besides Nikita, she thought to herself.

"Not sure, but I get to work with Michael." He looked pleased with himself and Alex knew she should be worried.

* * *

In the dim light of the hotel room, Nikita stretched her limbs, she rolled over on her side and reached out for Michael, but instead, she only found an empty spot next to her on the bed.

"I have to go." Michael's gravelly voice emerged from behind her. She sat up, pulling the sheet with her and turned around to find him buttoning his shirt, readying himself to leave.

"What? No post coital endearments Michael?" She suddenly felt angry and betrayed, always betrayed. She should have known.

He tried to brush off her words and the resentment she carried in her voice, but like everything about her, it was impossible to ignore. "Nikita, I have to go."

"Go ahead, you're so predictable."

"I have to figure out what to do and I can't do that if I'm here, in your bed." He said the words quietly and slowly, they were a kind of admission of his weakness and it sucker punched him at his core.

"Where are you going? I have a right to know what you're going to do." The tone in her voice had softened, she saw the conflict in his eyes and her anger faded.

"I'll contact you." Michael picked his jacket off of the back of the chair, his movements felt slow and he closed his eyes against the pain he suddenly felt. When he opened them, he found her crawling off of the bed, the sheet wrapped around her lithe figure and her dark hair cascading around her shoulders. She stood in front of him, blocking his exit.

"We can't go back." She had lost her surly attitude and the sincerity in her voice caused him even more pain.

He had intended to leave, to walk away and put their night together behind him, but instead he wrapped his arms around her and held her against him. "Don't you see? There is no _we_." He whispered the words, letting his fingers run through her hair.

"Michael... we can.." but whatever she wanted to say, whatever she wanted him to hear, it was interrupted by the persistence of her cell phone ringing.

He looked at her intently. "Answer it."

She untangled herself from his embrace and picked up her phone. She pressed the button to answer the call, there was a pause of three seconds that lasted an eternity, but she eventually spoke.

"You know why I'm here. Owen, where are you? We need to talk."

Michael inwardly cringed at the words, the same words he had used the night before. He donned a mask of indifference when he heard her say Owen's name, the emotions he felt muddied his rational thought, and when he looked at her, he reminded himself he had no right to feel this way.

Her words were clipped and her eyes widened in confusion. "Why? All right." She handed the phone to Michael.

He took the phone. "What do you want from me?" He asked looking grim.

On the other side of the phone, Owen let out the breath he had been holding. "I want you to let her go."

* * *

The last 48 hours had been a nightmare for him, a perfectionist and control freak, Roan seethed with anger when he realized Michael's deception and how he had been played as a fool. He was usually calm, deliberate and meticulous, but knowing he had been tricked had caused him to come unglued.

When the dust had settled, he drove up to the outskirts of O'Hare International Airport and he left the panel van parked in a large crowded lot, locked and stripped of any identifying markers. Inside were two medium sized suitcases, Roan was uneasy about leaving them behind, he was usually much more thorough, but he had a plane to catch.

Somehow, Michael was off the grid, his exact whereabouts unknown, but like Percy, he knew if he found Nikita, he was sure to be close by. He decided to go with his instincts and had called Birkhoff, requesting two more agents to meet him in Montreal. Two hand-picked agents and an arsenal of weapons.

Roan boarded the plane and settled himself in his seat. The plane took off and as it banked over the airport, he looked out of the window below and felt a twinge of guilt, after all, his first class seat was made possible by the absence of the agent who had been sent to assist him. He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and left behind in small pieces, inside two suitcases, parked inside a panel van. Roan closed his eyes, relaxed and thought to himself, _whatever._

* * *

Alex quietly rushed to the computer lab, she sat down and tapped on the keys. In a moment, she was connected to Nikita's small lap top.

_"A recruit named Thom told me he is being activated on a mission as a courier. He's coming to Montreal to work with Michael."_

Nikita suddenly felt duplicitous, confused and insecure.

_"I know Michael is here, I've seen him. His mission is to bring the black box back to Percy and confirm my kill."_

Alex felt a surge of concern._ "What are you going to do?"_

_"I'm staying alive and working on finding the black box. If you find out anything, let me know. Be careful."_

_"I will, you too, be careful."_

Alex watched the computer screen go blank. She was more worried about Nikita then she let on, and she decided she needed to speak to Thom once more before he left.

* * *

Club Cherrier on Saint-Denis Street, was a newly discovered hotspot in a trendy part of Montreal. Nikita had agreed to meet Michael here and they would meet Owen together, although, Owen didn't know it. The dance club was a good cover, it was easy to hide amongst the crowd of sexily dressed men and women, some of whom were steadily getting trashed.

She had dressed the part of party girl in a short tight electric blue dress, it's high neck, a contrast to its low exposed back. She wore heels, the extra height gave the illusion that her legs never ended, her lips were painted matte red and she wore her hair tousled and around her face.

Nikita leaned against a rail, a glass of white wine in one hand and a small silver bag on a chain in the other. She sipped the wine and felt the weight of her glock and lipstick in her purse, one of them giving her confidence. She scanned the crowded bar, the techno beat disguised as music had started up again and the dance floor flooded with people.

She sensed his presence first, then recognized his scent, and when he finally stood close behind her, placing his hands around her waist and whispering in her ear, she wished she could come undone.

"Nikita, you look beautiful, every man in this joint has his eye on you." Michael spoke with just a hint of drawl. She turned in his arms and wasn't surprised to see him dressed in silk and gabardine and seduction.

"And every gay man in this joint has his eye on you." She raised her eyebrows demurely and he retaliated by pulling her close to him. The playful moment was only that and they both knew it was time to focus.

Michael swept their surroundings with his familiar dark brooding expression, he had an eye for anomalies and a sixth sense for trouble, and trouble was here, but it was Nikita who saw him first. "We have to move." He followed her line of sight and they made their way through the crowd.

They followed Owen to another part of the building, a bar with a private room. Owen sat with his elbows resting on the table and his index fingers tapping together nervously. Compared to Michael, he was under dressed and unkempt, he wore olive drab camo and needed a shave and haircut, but it was something that Nikita could relate to.

Owen didn't know them. He didn't understand their past and was unaware of the present, but he did know that Nikita was his only ally and that they shared more as Division outlaws than he could ever hope to find on the outside. She understood him. And Michael? Michael was Percy's man.

"Why is he here? What is this, some kind of joke?" Owen looked at them suspiciously. Michael recognized the wild look in his eyes. Too much had happened in too short a time and he was paranoid and agitated.

Nikita saw the same signs. "Owen, listen to me, trust me." She sat down next to him and forced him to look at her. "We can do this together."

Michael felt blindsided by her comment and his anger was palpable. He leaned over the table, his hardened face was within inches from Nikita's.

"The box, the flash drive. Where is it? Don't you understand our lives depend on me returning it to Division. Let me have it and you can go."

"It's not that easy." Nikita looked at him, a feeling of despair was creeping up on her.

"It never is, but your choices have dwindled and you've run out of time." He spoke to her through gritted teeth and the exact reason he never allowed himself to get this close to her became clear.

Owen erupted, abruptly standing and overturning the table they sat at, it crashed to the ground and started a chain reaction of rage and adrenaline. Nikita whipped the gun she had already removed from her purse and aimed it at Owen, he reacted immediately by using his forearm to knock it out of her hand, the force of the move threw her back, Michael was already on him, their fists flew in ten different directions, knees and legs followed and the fight toppled furniture across the floor.

Each man fought for the same thing. The blows they inflicted were for lives they could never have and the kicks they delivered were for the personal connections that were too fragile and fleeting to hold on to. The rage Michael felt was uncontrollable and the instinct to survive in Owen was undefeatable. They may have killed each other on the spot, had it not been for the sound of gunfire and a shot that hit the ground between them.

Roan had an uncanny way of showing up uninvited, and he was every bit a party crasher with his gun held to Nikita's temple, and two men with assault weapons standing behind him.


	4. Do the Right Thing

This story is for entertainment purposes only, I do not claim the characters as my own. Parents, it is your responsibility to monitor your children's internet use, not mine.

* * *

4. Do the right thing

* * *

Amanda used her hands to dust off the lapels on Thom's new suit. She reached over and straightened his tie and gave him a very suggestive smile.

"You look very handsome, I'm sure you'll have no problem making your marks and completing your assignment." She stepped back and crossed her arms and gave him more than a cursory exam.

"Thank you… um… Amanda." Thom felt solid in his training, but Amanda's presence still intimidated him.

She was amused by his uncomfortable demeanor and her eyes smiled merrily at him. "You'd better get going, wouldn't want to keep Michael waiting."

"Uh, no, of course not." He left her office for the comfort of the windowless cavern where Division recruits train, and walked toward the elevator.

"Thom!" Alex called out to him. She wasn't sure what to say or do, but felt compelled to stop him before he left.

"Thom, I hope it goes well." She stopped in front of him, looking a little worried and a little confused.

"Thanks." He looked a little perplexed by the attention he was giving her. "I'm not expecting anything to go wrong."

"I know, but you know what Michael's always pounding in our heads about anticipating, and making the right decision without hesitation. Thom, just remember, _do the right thing_."

He stopped and looked at her, wondering what it was she was trying to tell him. "Yeah, I'll remember that." He stepped into the elevator and Alex watched him disappear as the doors closed.

She looked up and adding to her anxiety, she saw Percy and Amanda watching, and quickly walked away.

"That was interesting." Amanda turned to Percy, they had watched the interaction between them from the elevated walkway.

"How so? You think they're forming an attachment? Is this a problem?"

"Yes, but not necessarily a problem. These young people, they need something to hold on to, something to come back to."

Percy scoffed. " Really Amanda, that sounds almost sentimental."

She turned to him and gave him a knowing look. "Not sentimental, more like motivational, besides, it's always good to have an extra card to play."

Percy looked duly impressed. "What would we do without you?"

Amanda gave up a small laugh. "Indeed… what would you do?"

* * *

The techno beat filtered throughout the club, and in the private back room, Michael and Owen faced Roan, who had his arm across Nikita's throat and his gun pressed against her temple.

"You two are truly pathetic." Roan looked almost amused.

"You know, Michael, Percy's going to be really disappointed in you when I have to come back and tell him about this situation." He squeezed Nikita tighter until she gasped and intentionally tapped the barrel of the gun hard against her temple.

"And Owen, my God, what the hell happened to you. You know Percy talked about you like you were a Saint. He counted on you and gave you this plum assignment as a reward and you've totally fucked it up." Roan looked disgusted at both of them.

Michael knew he needed to buy some time. Roan held Nikita so tightly that her feet barely touched the ground, he was slowly choking her and the color had fled from her face.

"There's only one person here who knows where the black box is. If you kill us, you'll never find it, you don't know which one of us has the information."

Roan snickered. "Michael, you are by far the worst bullshitter, I have ever met. Wouldn't you say that's true, Nikita? Look, it's a process of elimination." He squeezed her and she gasped for air. " You get to be first, I'll snap your pretty neck, and Percy will even reward me for it!" He jerked his arm back.

Michael expression was a mixture of hatred, fear and desperation. He looked as though he was going to lunge at them, when Owen shouted.

"STOP!… I'll tell you…Mont Royal Cemetery, south of Emily Robinson's grave, about 6 meters." He looked frantically at Nikita who had a panicked look on her face.

Roan kept his arm pressed against her airway. He gave the two men in front of him a smug stare. "Check it out, now and fast... and report to me." One of his agents backed out of the room and disappeared.

"Everyone, say good bye to Michael, a fallen soldier, one of Division's finest. The other agent pointed his assault rifle at him.

* * *

_Do the right thing, do the right thing. _ Thom repeated Alex's words in his head like a mantra. She was the first recruit he had actually wanted to know. She was very pretty and unlike Jaden, she seemed real and smart, but he knew it was all a moot point, he knew the rules.

When he'd been told that Michael wanted to speak to him, he felt a thrill of excitement and after being told to come to Montreal to return something to Percy, he felt relief. He knew where to go, how to act, and when to take action. But now, getting out of the black SUV, he felt a little afraid.

Michael had left his name at the front door and he entered the trendy and upscale club. The loud music pounded in his ears, the flashing lights, the women dressed to the nines was all so distracting and intriguing, but Thom kept his mission clear in his head. _Back Michael up, retrieve the package, wait for instructions._

He loosened his tie and ruffled his hair with his hands and did his best to look unaffected by the noise and the party atmosphere. He walked into the crowd of people and that's when he saw him coming toward him, another agent with his coat draped over something he recognized as a weapon.

"What da fuck! What are ya doin' here?" Thom said cheerfully, he wasn't willing to break his cover.

The agent stared at him and look confused. "Roan?"

Thom's response was automatic "Yeah."

Back room, I'm going for the package, they're taking care of the rest.

The bells and whistles he didn't even know existed went off in his head and he nodded in response.

He walked toward the direction of the back room and heard Alex's voice in his head again_...do the right thing._

* * *

Roan was still stinging from Chicago, it had rattled his usual detached manner. He wanted to savor the moment, after all, Michael had treated him like a fool and he wasn't going to let him get away with it easily. Humiliation was always a good place to start.

"On your knees Michael." Roan asked politely, but his smug expression told the story.

"I'd rather not, that's more your thing isn't it?" Michael appeared more bored than stoic and that insult after injury was just enough to cause Roan to let Nikita's feet touch the ground.

She threw her elbows back, pivoted on her heels, kicking Roan in his groin and throwing him into the agent. His had lost his balance and his assault weapon went of, the spray of bullets missed their target. Owen flew at the agent, tackling him to the ground, with one quick movement he broke his neck. Roan who was doubled over in pain, raised himself up and pointed his gun at Michael and Nikita stepped in front of it as it went off.

Michael caught her in his arms and they both sank down to the ground. He looked up just in time to see Roan take aim again, but another shot went off and a startled look was forever frozen on Roan's face.

Thom stood in the doorway, his weapon discharged and his body trembling from the action. He turned his weapon toward Owen.

The blood soaked through Michael's fingers and a patch of Nikita's blue dress turned a vibrant color of purple. Michael saw the pleading look on her face. "STAND DOWN!" he yelled out and Thom lowered his gun.

"The other agent, I saw him leave?" Thom stammered out the words. He saw the utter distress on Michael's face as he held Nikita in his arms.

Owen stood up and faced Thom. "Mont Royal Cemetary, plot 197. It's the package."

Thom looked confused until Michael yelled out again. "GO! Bring me the black box!" He didn't need to be told twice and left.

Michael held Nikita in his arms, she fought to stay conscious and he pleaded with her. "Stay with me... you have to... Nikita!"

"Michael" Her words came out barely a whisper. "Michael, I love..." but before she could finish Owen yelled out. "We got to go, NOW!"

Owen took the gun out of Roan's hand and stuck it into the waistband of his pants and stood over them. "Michael, we have to go, the police will be here, we have to leave. I promise, I'll take care of her."

Michael had one second to process what had just happened, he looked up at Owen. "Don't let her die…"

Then he did the hardest thing he had ever done in his 35 years, he let go of her and watched Owen pick her up and leave the club.

* * *

Alex ran on the treadmill, she pushed herself to hide the anxiety she felt, she hadn't heard from Nikita in over 24 hours, her attempts to contact her came up empty. When she saw Michael walk into Division, his face pale and strained, and his arm bandaged, it made her stomach drop. Thom followed behind him carrying a computer hard drive in his hands, both men looked shaken and she knew something was terribly wrong.

Alex got off of the treadmill and wiped the sweat off her brow with a towel and followed Michael and Thom with her eyes. Michael looked at her for a split second and she was overcome with the pain she saw. She searched for Tom's eye, hoping he would give her a reassuring look but he looked straight ahead, a stoney expression carved on his face. They disappeared behind the door that led to Operations.

* * *

Percy sat behind his desk, his suit jacket most likely hung neatly in his closet. He leaned back in his chair when Michael and Thom entered.

"Tell me you have good news..."

Michael had heard these words more than once and the sound of his voice and the tone he used was like nails on a blackboard. He squelched the urge to curse at him and instead motioned for Thom to give him his precious black box. Percy looked pleased when he saw it and smiled.

"I assume all went as I instructed."

"It went as planned." Michael answered in a low grating voice, his tone was automated.

"I'd say well done, but we've had more material loss than I expected." Percy raised his eyebrows at the two men.

"It couldn't be helped, Sir. The Cleaner appeared to have his own motives and the agents he worked with went along with it and were sloppy." Thom interjected, it was clear he was nervous, but a note of sincerity filtered through.

"Yes, it seems that way. Too bad, he'll be hard to replace." Percy shrugged and put on a pleasant expression.

"Michael, you look like you could use a little time off, catch up on your rest. I'm authorizing some downtime for you."

Michael grit his teeth. "It isn't necessary. I'm fine."

"No your not." Amanda came out of the shadows behind them. She looked at Michael and furrowed your brow. "A few days will do you some good, a few weeks might even be better."

Michael's shell shocked face didn't waiver. "Is that an order?"

Percy gave him a big smile. "Yes it is. Go and read a good book, see some movies."

Amanda was mesmerized by the murderous look in Michael's eyes. Both agents started to leave but Amanda stopped one of them. "Thom, a moment please."

Amanda saw the two men make eye contact, but realized it could mean anything and Michael left without looking back.

"Thom, please sit down." Amanda said calmly. "We just want to confirm what happened, in your own words." She looked nurturing, almost maternal.

He looked hesitant, cleared his throat and began to speak. "Yes, well I met Michael at the rendezvous point, where an altercation that included gun fire was taking place with Roan and another agent, there had been a conflict and they'd been canceled. Michael gave me the coordinates and instructed me to retrieve the black box from the cemetery, where I encountered another agent, who wanted the package for his own reasons, we exchanged gun fire and he was killed. I found the package, returned to the club where Michael was dealing with local law enforcement and we left shortly thereafter.

What he didn't tell them was his encounter with Owen and Nikita, returning to the club and finding Michael handcuffed by the local police, he was angry and belligerent, and only after he showed them his credentials, would they release him. The bullet that had gone through Nikita had nicked his arm and Michael fought him before he could put a dressing on it. Thom drove them both to their transport and once they were on their way, he tried to give Michael the black box, but he refused it, instead he hung his head in his hands for the duration of the trip. They never exchanged a word.

Percy had lost the pleasant expression on his face. "There was full containment?"

"Yes Sir, besides our material, a woman was killed, Michael referred to her as a rogue agent." An image of Nikita laying in Michael's arms bleeding out and Owen's concerned expression flashed through his mind.

"Thom, is Michael with holding any information from us?"

Thom looked uncomfortable and shifted in his seat. "Yes, I believe this is what you're looking for." He extracted a flash drive from his pocket and placed it on Percy's desk.

Percy looked at Amanda and Amanda smiled at Thom. "You did very well and we're proud of you. 

* * *

Thom came out of Operations and breathed for the first time since he left. He saw Alex's concerned face and smiled at her, but she continued to look distraught.

"Alex" Thom said. "Don't look so worried, it went down okay."

Alex looked like she wanted to cry, so Thom reached out and grabbed her hand. "I followed your advice, I tried to do the right thing."


	5. A Promise to Keep

This story is for entertainment purposes only, I do not claim the characters as my own. Parents, it is your responsibility to monitor your children's internet use, not mine.

* * *

5. A Promise to Keep

* * *

Percy looked over at Amanda, he had poured himself a drink and swirled the amber liquid around in his glass, the ice cubes tinkling.

"What do you think? Are there any missing pieces, loose ends?"

Amanda looked up and took a breath, before meeting his eyes. "There are always missing pieces. Judging from the way Michael was behaving, I'd say Nikita is dead. He looked devastated."

"Will he recover? I've lost one prime agent, I can't really afford to loose Michael too."

"Roan was always a ticking time bomb, he lasted longer than any of us imagined, and Michael, I actually think this may be the best thing that could happen to Division. Michael may be better than ever, he was getting…. sentimental." She looked amused. "Now he'll get his focus back."

"Good! Nikita's taken up far too much of our time." What do you think about this new recruit, Thom?

"He has potential, we'll keep an eye on him, and his _motivation_, Alex."

Percy smirked and finished his drink. "You know they remind me of Michael & Nikita when they first came to us."

Amanda stood and smoothed her pencil skirt down and turned to leave. "Not to worry, we've been on this path before, it may feel like deja vu, but I assure you, it's not. I've got it handled.

Percy chuckled to himself, Amanda was really a piece of work.

* * *

Two days after Thom and Michael returned from Montreal, Alex took another turn at the computer and when the screen didn't tell her 'user offline' her relief was real.

"_Sensei? Please answer me, are you okay?"_

Alex had been worried enough that she considered trying to escape. So when Nikita replied, she was elated.

_"Yes, okay, but I'll be out of commission for a while."_

_"I was so worried, Thom and Michael came back and they both looked like the mission had been a disaster, but then I heard it was successful. I thought you were dead."_

Nikita had smiled when she replied. _"I must be part cat. Someday I'll give you details. Good and bad."_

"_I hope the good outweighed the bad." _Alex replied._  
_

Nikita was thankful that Alex couldn't see her tears when she _replied. "It did."_

* * *

Amanda had told him once, "What happens in our lives is fleeting and one instance can forever change who you are." Michael never embraced Amanda's soft packaged pop psychology but in this case her words rang true and his broken heart proved the point. He was never one to wallow in self-pity, but self-recrimination was another story.

As ordered, he had taken a week off from Division, and with incredible self-will, he stopped himself from going back to Montreal to find her. He knew he was being watched and his presence placed her in danger, instead he spent his days calling in favors from people he had past dealings with. He searched for information on Nikita and Owen, hoping for a thread of news that would give him hope to hang on to, but nothing useful had surfaced and he could only pray she was still alive. He spent his nights thinking about her, and unlike many things in his life that he chose to forget, he remembered every second and every detail of their night together. These moments were permanently etched into his heart, and although he couldn't change his past, he realized a future is a precious idea. Somewhere inside of him, he knew she was still alive, he would find her and he promised himself they would be together, this wasn't over.

When his week of exile was up, he walked back into Division and made his rounds. He was relieved to find Percy and Amanda were off site attending meetings. He knew Nikita had changed him, she had restored some of his humanity and he could no longer be in denial, his love was not just a foolish by-product of loneliness. He feared Amanda would dig into his psyche and piss him off enough that Percy would start hassling him again, but than another part of him hoped they would see that he was different.

Michael entered Operations and was greeted in a familiar and annoying way.

"Yo Mike! Welcome back to the trenches. You enjoy your R & R, you look like crap for someone who's been off a week. Didn't you meet any babes out there?" Birkhoff half joked and fully hoped he had.

"Shut up Birkhoff." Michael didn't need to pretend he was disgusted with him, but it was comforting to know that some things had not changed.

"Did you hear about that agent that disappeared? Looks like he couldn't hack it, and got hacked up." Birkhoff muttered to himself and started typing on his keyboard.

"Seriously though… I got a really weird message for you while you were out. Even ShadowNet couldn't trace it." Birkhoff continued to type on his keyboard and toggled between screens. "Here, it came off of a DoD satellite. He opened a window on his screen and Michael read the words.

_WE CAN'T GO BACK_

His adrenaline spiked and a million questions ran through his head. He barely heard Birkhoff when he said, "Michael, I heard about Nikita. I'm sorry you had to do it."

Michael's heart raced, he acknowledged Birkhoff with a nod and turned and walked away. He stood a little taller and felt a little stronger and his resolve returned, because this wasn't over and he had a promise to keep.

* * *

Approximately three hundred miles north of Quebec, it had started to snow and thankfully the wood stove made the cabin feel warm and cozy. Owen brought Nikita a cup of tea and a magazine.

"It feels really good to be moving around. Thanks." She took the steaming cup from him and he handed her the magazine.

"Martha Stewart Living? Are you kidding me?"

"They were out of Covert Mission Digest, sorry." He hadn't laughed in a really long time and it felt almost strange.

"Besides my lame magazine choice, how are you feeling?" Owen still felt awkward, he was basically shy, and although they may have saved each others lives, they were virtually two strangers.

"I may not ever wear a bikini again, but otherwise, I'm fine." She smiled at him, a month had gone by and she felt strong.

With the help of the doctor who Owen had bribed, Nikita's life had been saved and as soon as she could be moved, he took her to a lake side cabin that he had found, the one he had hoped to share with Emily.

"Owen, you saved my life and I'll always be eternally grateful, but I can't stay here, I have other people I have to stay in touch with."

"Michael?" Owen looked lost and somehow Nikita felt responsible.

"That's complicated. I don't know what will happen, we're still on opposite sides of too many issues." Her voice was quiet, her words rehearsed, her speech broken. "There are others I care about, besides, I still have to skewer Percy on a few more things."

It hadn't bothered her that Owen brought Michael up, he was never far from her thoughts and she had realized something important. Now, when she thought of Daniel, it filled her with sadness, loss and guilt, but when she tried to remember him, to see him and to feel him in her heart, it was only Michael's face she saw, his voice she heard and his heart she felt because this time, her love wasn't based upon a lie, it was based on the truth.

"Nikita, there's one other thing you should know." Owen looked almost sheepish.

She asked for an explanation with a look.

"I made a copy of Percy's black box, and one of the items in it is in code, a cypher of sorts, but it tells where the other six black boxes are located.

~ End?

* * *

Author's Note:

I should let you know that my love for these two characters started with the series that started in the 90's called La Femme Nikita with Peta Wilson and Roy Dupuis. I wasn't sure I'd like this present incarnation of the story, but I do, the premise still rocks and it's different enough that comparisons aren't necessary. Its definitely new and Nikita and Michael are HOT! (Birkhoff is the only character I have trouble with, in the old series he was portrayed in such a way that you couldn't help but like him.) Unfortunately, the show is on at the same time as one of my other favorite shows right now, Fringe, so I'm really torn, and ready to buy a TiVo.

This was by far the easiest fan fic I have ever written, the story came quickly and I knew what I wanted to happen almost immediately. I knew how I wanted to interpret the characters, except for Roan, so I made him up as I wrote, and unlucky for him, he got to be the fall guy. I also took liberties with Thom, I felt he needed a background, kind of a reason why he acts like a cute puppy in a den of pit-bulls.

I regret that this was Alex light, but having two story lines going at once is something I have yet to master. Alex is really cool and I love how she's like a super hero in training. Nikita in love with Daniel is just a plain obstacle in my view, so that had to be resolved. This was also Owen light, because it wasn't about them. He is kind of a good problem for Nikita, can't wait to see him turn up again. Michael is such a hottie. He's dark and glib, dysfunctional and sensitive, such an enigma, but you know he smells really good. Did I mention he's a hottie? Don't you love how smarmy Percy is and how scary Amanda is? I should have figured out a way to make Nikita more bad ass, but that's why I don't get the big bucks.. It's hard.

I chose to leave the smut out of this story, I'm no prude and have written stuff that I would NEVER show my grandmother, but I just couldn't bring myself to talk about body parts, sometimes it's not about those thing(ies)s. ;o)

A couple of you left me reviews but I couldn't send you a private message, so a shout out to you, thank you for reading this story and for your comments.

To those of you who added me as a story alert - you get a coffee date with Michael at Starbucks (whip cream included)

To those of you who added this to your favorite list - you get to meet Michael at Club Cherrier for cocktails.

To those of you who left me reviews - well you guys get a backrub from Michael!

;o)

I've been reading some really great Nikita Fan Fic, and I know there is more to come. I can't wait.

Thank you again and thank you for not flaming my ass in public.

Love,

Mochi


End file.
